Seasons
by shattered rainbow
Summary: When a young man falls in love he thinks his life is complete. But is true love what he really thinks it is? Based on a 16th century madrigal...
1. Spring

Ch 1: Spring

October 30, 2006

**Seasons**

A/N: I'd like to say before beginning that I'm not sure where exactly this fic belongs. I'm putting it under fairy tales because it _can_ be considered a fairy tale, but it is really based off of a 16th century madrigal by Thomas Morley. There isn't a song fic category that I can find, but if there is please tell me. Like I said before, this can be considered a fairy tale, I suppose, but only because it takes place in some far off kingdom and deals with the question of true love and all that. There isn't any magic, there aren't any fairies, and there certainly aren't any princesses. My sincerest apologies if I wasted your time, but please read on if you think it's worth giving a chance.

-The Shattered Rainbow

P.S. This is also a very different writing style than what I normally use. I don't know why it came out this way… It just sort of happened that way. Tell me what you think of it! Oh, and happy halloween!

---

As Jonathan walked out of the inn on that gray morning, he could smell the spring in the air. The air had a crisp feeling to it, and although the snow still lay in thin layers on the ground the shoots of infant plants were poking their green faces above the surface and gazing at this strange new world. A few birds could be seen, home from their winter stay in warmer places.

Jonathan shivered and pulled his coat tighter around his thin frame. This winter had been a harsh one, especially for a poor man like himself. Spring would be a blessing, meaning that he could once again find work, maybe as a field hand this time. Jonathan was always going from place to place, searching for work. He'd once been a writer, but he had never sold anything and soon he abandoned the pen for work that would actually earn him profit. He never had much money at hand to buy the finer things. The inn he stayed at smelt of stale beer, and the coat he wore was patched around the elbows.

He walked briskly to the market, hoping to purchase a loaf of bread, fresh if he was lucky. Maybe he'd find work there today.

Upon reaching the market he managed to buy a few of yesterday's rolls from the baker and a couple of shoddy candles. He was just heading back to the inn when he saw Her.

He'd never thought such beauty could grace the Earth on which he lived. She was fair of complexion with hair the color of cinnamon and Her eyes- well, he couldn't see Her eyes. But he wished he could. He felt he must find love there, just as there must be love reflected in his own.

He longed to run up to her and tell her this, or at the very least talk to her and find out who she was. But his legs were either too cold from the chill morning air or they simply refused to obey his commands because he found that he wasn't moving toward her at all. Before long a cart piled high with straw drove along, and by the time he could see where she had stood again, She was gone.

--

Jonathan spent the rest of that day in a daze. All he could think about was Her, the way She had walked, the way Her hair fell over her shoulders. He couldn't understand how it was possible for him to recall every detail about Her from the brief moment he had seen Her. If this wasn't love at first sight, he didn't know what was. The only problem was that She hadn't seen him. How was he to know if she loved him back?

He searched in vain over the next few months, always hoping to catch a glimpse of Her somewhere. He never did. Whenever he saw a girl with fair skin or cinnamon hair his heart would speed up and he would think-"it's Her" but it never was, and each time his heart sank further into its own bitterness.

He told his friends about Her, and they laughed at him, calling him a fool, saying how he wouldn't know the difference between a real love and a real beauty if it slapped him in the face. So he stopped talking about Her with them, and soon they forgot all about the whole thing.

But Jonathan did not forget. He spent hours thinking of what he would say to Her if he ever met Her- he never dared dream of his life if he never found Her again. Occasionally forbidden thoughts would creep into his head, thoughts like how She might have just been passing through, or that She had left, or run away, or worse- not have been real at all. She certainly seemed too good to be true.

So it was no wonder that on that April morning when he did see Her, his heart nearly burst from relief. It was at the fair on a fine, sunny day. The grass was greener than anything and the flowers smelt sweeter than any perfume. The birds were all back and singing their hearts out and it seemed to Jonathan they were singing in honor of his love found at last.

He ran all the way across the market, abandoning the friends that he had been walking with previously. And there She was, right in front of him, hardly an arms length away. Dare he reach out and touch Her shoulder to attract her attention? What if his hand passed right through Her, as though She were nothing more than a figment of his own imagination? Jonathan banished the idea from his mind, besides, it would hardly be proper to touch a lady and a stranger.

He walked around to her other side, preparing himself for what he would say. And to believe, all those hours spent dreaming up things to say and now, not a single one came into his head!

She looked at him curiously. Her eyes were green. Green as emeralds, green as the sea! Oh, how he had longed to see these eyes! And Her face! The day and all of its wonders became dreary in comparison to this face! If that is what they would call April, it was nothing compared to what he saw in Her. There was the green grass in Her eyes, the sweet flowers on Her lips and cheeks.

She spoke: "Sir, is there anything that I can do for you?" And Her voice was by far lovelier than any songbird's. He stumbled for a reply.

"Please, fair lady; only give me your name."

She looked into his eyes. Did she see the love there? But it didn't matter, not yet anyways, for she gave her reply: "Adelaide."


	2. Summer

November 5, 2006

**Seasons**

**Ch 2: Summer**

Whoo, I got zero reviews, but I'm not particularly bothered by it. This is, after all, rated M, and most people won't be seeing it. I actually contemplated rating it T, but the last chapter will not be appropriate enough for that rating. I've seen worse than what it's going to be on the main pages, but I think I should follow the ratings, press or no. That's just my little spiel about ratings there, so on with the story!

But seriously, if you read this, please tell me your thoughts. I'm really very concerned with how this story will go over. With added emphasis on the 'very.'

Without further ado…

Ch 2: Summer

Jonathan had never felt happier in all his life.

Every day seemed better than the one before it. Every moment more wonderful than the last. Each minute was thrilling, new, and adventuresome when he was with her. He felt like an explorer, every conversation led him further into this creature and showed him more of what made her… her.

Adelaide was more than perfect. She was… she was indescribable. He couldn't believe that this happiness could be his. Every moment of his past suffering melted away when he was with her, just as the winter had melted into that glorious summer.

Each day he would meet her, and they would walk, and talk. She told him where she came from, about how her father was a merchant, but had lost his fortune when a mudslide took away half his merchandise last spring. She now lived with her Uncle in town, but hadn't often come out to the market because he hadn't wanted to 'expose' her.

Jonathan didn't care where she had come from. And Adelaide didn't care where he had come from either. He admitted that he was poorer than the dirt they walked on but she didn't mind. There was love there. If this wasn't real, Jonathan didn't know what was. He had prayed for something like this, he just hadn't known that this was what it was.

He told her how he used to write, and how everything he wrote only seemed to make him hungrier instead of earning him money, so he gave it up. She frowned and shook her head over this and said that he should try again.

So he tried. And tried, and tried. He wrote poems about her, the summertime, love, and anything else that was making him happy then. But they were somehow lacking. Adelaide read every one, and said things to make them better or told him what made them bad. She never judged him, only read what was there and wasn't afraid to tell him if it was good or bad.

Her Uncle didn't know that they saw each other, she said. He would be very angry if he knew that his niece had fallen in love with some poor writer. Jonathan didn't care. He had her, and whether her Uncle would approve or not didn't seem to matter or affect him in any way.

The summer drifted on. It was dreamlike. They would go for walks, sometimes holding hands. Jonathan's heart sped up when he did this. They would go into the meadow, even, and there they would lie in the sun and talk more. Sometimes Adelaide would be telling him about something and he would just stare into her eyes and become lost in their green depths.

One time they were in the meadow, where no one could see them, talking. Jonathan didn't think; he leaned forward to kiss Adelaide, but she turned away from him. Slightly hurt, he asked her why.

"It's so soon. I don't want this to happen… like this. Just wait."

Jonathan didn't quite understand, but he waited. He waited for her to know him more, to trust him more, and to fall in love with him more. Maybe she wasn't sure if his love was true yet. He was. He had been in love ever since he'd seen her, and had known it was real ever since he had gazed into her eyes. He could see it reflected there, even if Adelaide didn't know it.

Soon it was midsummer's day, and there was a huge festival in the town. Jonathan and Adelaide stood next to each other in the crowd and danced and sang with the rest of the villagers. There were minstrels and even some knights. There were girls all covered with flowers that performed a dance and a group of drummers. Jonathan found himself laughing more than he had laughed in years. And Adelaide was there with him for it.

After the festival he walked with her part of the way home. He thought and thought for a moment, and then threw thought out of his head and followed his heart. He wrapped his arms around Adelaide's waist and pulled her into the shadows. At first she was stiff, but she soon relaxed and returned his kisses passionately. Jonathan kissed her mouth, her neck, her face. He could feel the blood rushing in his body, a strange new urge taking him over. Adelaide's breathing grew frantic under him. She pulled away.

Jonathan could feel his heart begin to slow as she moved her face away from his, and his blood slowed and his pulse quieted. His arms were still around her waist, and to his surprise and delight, he could see hers around his neck.

He kissed her again, a bit less fiercely this time, and then they parted.

Jonathan went home in a happy daze that night. If this wasn't love, he didn't know what was.

After that Adelaide would kiss him, so long as no one was around to see it. She always seemed hesitant, like she wasn't sure if she really knew what she wanted, but she always gave in.

He wrote more poems. They seemed faked and didn't accurately describe what he was feeling at all. He threw them in the fire without ever showing them to Adelaide.

July was fading fast into August. Still the two of them sat in the meadow and talked or read his work, or laughed. Life was perfect in the meadow. The sun smiled on the two of them, and Jonathan smiled back. The golden field always had flowers enough, and often Jonathan would pick one and put it in Adelaide's hair. She would always laugh when he did this, almost uncertainly. Once when she thought he wasn't looking, he saw her stroking the petals with a small frown on her lovely features.

The land was rich and green. Just like his sweet Adelaide. He would gaze into her eyes, and there he would see himself mirrored there, as though he were a part of her. And he knew that she would be in his eyes, a part of his soul in turn.

Her eyes held the fruit of summer, the green of the trees, and the soft touch of the warm breeze. July lived within those eyes. July wasn't seen through those eyes, but surely was just a mere reflection of what was already there. There was July in her eyes, and whenever she looked at him the heat of the blazing summer sun bore into his soul, warming it from whatever frozen hell he'd been trapped in before he'd found her.

He wrote more poems. None of them did her justice. None of them were good enough.

He wrote a story. Not about her, but about something else. It was about love, and hate, and everything in between. It was about the human heart and morals and life and death. It was published. It sold. Suddenly, he was no longer poor. He moved out of the smelly inn and into a finer one. No longer would he have to work for others. No longer would he have to beg for yesterday's bread at half price.

He and Adelaide rejoiced. He knew if it had not been for her, none of this would have happened. He loved her even more. He thought that if he loved her any more than this his heart would burst.

Slowly, the summer died, and left its blazing heat and warm evenings behind. The days grew shorter, like how an old man shrinks with age. The roses fell and the leaves began to turn. But to Jonathan, everything seemed new and strange, for there was now Adelaide to see it with him.

---

A/N: Please tell me what you thought of this. I need to know if it's bad or not. I need to know if people are angry for it not quite being posted in the right spot. Most of all, I need to know if it's boring. And I'll only know if you tell me…


	3. Autumn

January 14, 2007

**Seasons**

**Ch 3: Autumn**

Thanks to lomelinde and xoallieox for their reviews. YAY! I'm glad it went over well…

Also, I'm sorry for the long gap between updates… I suppose I got I little discouraged, but I shouldn't let stuff like that get me down! I'd forgotten how much I liked this story.

Now on with the show!

Ch 3: Autumn

Jonathan found himself spending more and more time with Adelaide. Just as the leaves on the trees grew bolder in color, Jonathan and Adelaide grew bolder as well. They would walk through the town, hand in hand, he not caring what the townspeople whispered behind their hands, not caring when his old friends would look toward him and shake their heads. Adelaide would sometimes let go of his hand suddenly and look around, frightened, but he would always reassure her and things would go back to how they were.

Jonathan began to dream again. He dreamt of a life with Adelaide, of marriage and children. He dreamt of a cottage where they could raise a family and live happily together. He dreamt of leaving the town they were in, to start over somewhere else where there were no uncles or old friends- where life could be as it should.

One evening they had gone into the inn- it was too cold now to stay outside at night (the innkeeper had looked from Adelaide to Jonathan and then winked as they headed into his room. It took all of Jonathan's will not to punch the man in the face) now that the warm summer nights were gone- and Jonathan had told Adelaide his Dream. She seemed uncomfortable once she had heard this. Jonathan tried to persuade her, but she ran out of the room. Jonathan was left alone with his troubled thoughts, wondering what he had said wrong.

Weeks passed by and the couple ignored the topic of the Dream. One day they were walking through town –just as they had on the other days- when a boy darted out in front on a cart. There were loud shouts and screams as the driver tried to stop his horse from continuing forward, but when the dust had cleared it revealed the boy, bloody on the ground, crying weakly for his mother. Jonathan instantly rushed forward to the boy to see if he could help. Immediately he could see that he had been trampled and only had a few moments left on this earth.

The boy cried for his mother. Between his rasping sobs he would jerk his unbroken arm toward Adelaide and cry "Mama, Mama!" Jonathan could even then see the boy's eyes beginning to grow glassy and knew that he was seeing some sort of half-reality and was unable to distinguish between what was real and what was imagined. But still he reached his arm longingly toward Adelaide, as though all he wanted was to be held in his mother's arms one last time.

"Adelaide!" called Jonathan, but Adelaide didn't move, but only had a shocked expression on her face. "Adelaide, please! He's going to die!" Slowly, as though hypnotized, Adelaide walked forward. When she reached the boy she stood over him, a stony look on her face. The boy continued to call out to her, but she did not move.

"But I am not his mother." She said, staring at the broken child.

"He doesn't know that, Adelaide!" Jonathan yelled, gaining her attention. Her eyes locked on his, but instead of frightened or upset they were completely expressionless. "He's dying, Adelaide. It's the least you can do for him!"

Adelaide bent down jerkily, as though she were a puppet commanded by his words. Reaching toward the youth, she cradled his head against her breast, and the child quieted, and then stirred no more.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Adelaide would not talk about the boy after that. Jonathan figured that she must have been traumatized by having one so young die in her own arms and that was why she refused to discuss it. He would wait until she ready, just as he had waited for her to kiss him, or to be seen in public with him.

Soon after the incident Adelaide came running to the inn late at night. She seemed panicked and was breathing heavily, for she had just run there. She told Jonathan that she had just come from her uncle's and that he had figured them out- apparently they had been too bold. She said that she would leave in the morning for a different town and that she was never to speak to Jonathan again. Jonathan began to run about his room, shoving clothing and blankets and things into a bag. Adelaide's eyes grew wide, and she swallowed, and then asked him what he was doing.

"We must leave tonight," he said. "We have to run away, so your uncle won't find us." He turned to her, excitement written all over his face. "We could find some place to live, settle down-" he stopped suddenly, realizing that he had inadvertently brought up the Dream. Unsure, he stared with troubled eyes into Adelaide's unsure ones. He could tell she was thinking things over, trying to decide what to do. Whether to go along with Jonathan's Dream or ignore it and lose him forever. But Jonathan wondered; if she hadn't come to leave with him, what had she come for?

And then Jonathan had a sick realization. She hadn't come to run away with him; she had come to say goodbye.

Jonathan found that his knees would no longer support him and he collapsed onto his bed, a cold numb feeling spreading itself up from his stomach. He tried to speak but found that his tongue would not form the words. Adelaide looked almost sick herself. "I, I just…Jonathan, I-"

Jonathan shook his head wordlessly at her. His eyes were pointed toward the ground, but all he could see were images of the Dream he had harbored for months; the Dream that even he didn't realize how important it had become; the Dream that he had already trusted to become real!

The vision faded and he found himself looking into Adelaide's green eyes, reflecting the dim candlelight of the room. She had knelt down in front of him and taken his hands into her perfect ones. The look in her eyes was scared and torn, but even as she looked into his with a total fear on her face she began to nod her head. Tears began to leak from her eyes, and she reached up with a shaking hand and wiped away tears that until now Jonathan hadn't noticed were coming from his own eyes.

She nodded her head with more confidence, a sad sort of smile spreading itself over her face. "Don't, Jonathan, don't. I will. I will." She repeated it over and over to herself as though attempting to convince herself that it was truly what she wanted. "You- you'll what?" Jonathan whispered, feeling a faint hope creep back into his heart. "I will come with you," she answered, and Jonathan found than now her was crying for joy. "I will come with you tonight."

Jonathan reached out and held Adelaide close to him, thanking God that she would still be there, and that what was almost lost was now safe. He hugged her so tightly he didn't think it would be possible to let go. He pressed his face into her shoulder, crying tears of relief that she would not leave him, and thinking that their love had been tested and proven to be true.

And Adelaide held him, but unsure of why, or even how this was happening. It was now she who felt the numbness creeping up from her stomach and across her body, and the single question was repeating itself over and over in her head; why did he love her? And before her stood a man who thanked God to place his head in the same hard breast where once a child died.

And if Jonathan could have seen her face, he would have seen her gazing outside at the raging storm where the once vibrant leaves were ripped off of the trees and thrown to the ground where they blackened as they were pelted by the rain. Adelaide stepped away from Jonathan's embrace, smiled weakly at him and began to pack his things.

And once more, Jonathan thanked God.


End file.
